


Where Dreams Come True

by hetzi_clutch



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Pure Fun, Romance, killer robots at DISNEY, literally i had so much fun writing this, thasmin, the nestene consciousness but a bit to the left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetzi_clutch/pseuds/hetzi_clutch
Summary: All Yaz wanted was a date. To visit the most magical place on Earth with the Doctor, and maybe get the courage to confess her feelings. That wasn't too much to ask, right?Instead she got killer robots, a conspiracy, and an alien trying to take over the state of Florida. So really, par for the course.





	Where Dreams Come True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellynz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellynz/gifts).

> HEY so I actually wrote another fic, can you believe it?
> 
> Anyway, this one goes out to hellynz/Sara who is literally my best friend and most amazing person and ITS HER BIRTHDAY TODAY. She basically deserves a 100k multichapter BUT I sold my last braincell a couple weeks ago instead we got killer robots at Disney. Still tho, I had a ton of fun writing this and it basically got me out of my writing slump, so hats off to Sara, ily so much b. Yes, I'm sappy on main. Sue me.

“I’m only saying, Disney World is a _prime_ example of early twenty-first century capitalism spun out of control—”

“_Doctor_.”

The Doctor stopped, and swung around to face Yaz. When she caught sight of the raised eyebrows and crossed arms, the gently tapping foot, her expression turned sheepish.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and quickly turned back to the controls. “What I meant to say was, what world first? Magic Kingdom? Epcot?”

“Definitely Magic Kingdom.” Yaz’s smile grew, and she dropped her arms, coming up beside the Doctor to peer at the coordinates. “Do we have to pay for tickets?”

The Doctor scoffed. “Absolutely not! I’ll park us just—hang on!”

With a great wheeze, the TARDIS heaved to a halt, and the Doctor turned to face Yaz, a triumphant smile upon her face.

“Right inside the gates,” she finished, and gestured towards the door. “Shall we, Yasmin Khan?”

Yaz gave an eager nod. “No use waiting around, now is there?”

The Doctor’s grin widened, then she reached out, grabbed Yaz’s hand, and fairly yanked her towards the door.

“Shame the boys had to miss this!” she said as they stumbled down the steps in linked-together clumsiness. “Thought for sure Ryan would at least want to see Animal Kingdom, but I suppose they were so excited about that alien spa—”

Yaz bit her tongue, and didn’t answer. Ryan had been extremely excited about that alien spa precisely because Yaz had slipped him five quid and begged him to take it. Graham hadn’t needed much convincing, but then Graham often glanced between Yaz and the Doctor with a knowing sort of look she couldn’t decipher.

Well, she would take it.

“Like I said, right—!” The Doctor pushed open the doors and dragged Yaz through, only to stop short. Yaz nearly ran into her, then stopped and looked up, squinting against the bright sun.

“—outside the gates,” the Doctor finished. She stared, then swung back to look at the TARDIS and scowled.

“_Not_ funny!”

The TARDIS only beeped in response. The Doctor glared for a moment longer, then turned back to the ticket stands with a fallen look.

“I don’t have any money,” she said, defeated, then brightened. “Oh! But I have the psychic paper! What do you say, Yaz, fancy a little risk?”

“What—no—” But the Doctor was already pulling Yaz along towards the stands. She let herself be dragged, and suppressed a sigh.

This wasn’t a date, not really. But it could be one. Only she should have expected that any date with the Doctor would not be the typical experience.

She wondered what her parents would say should she be arrested for fraud.

But they weren’t arrested. The Doctor flipped her psychic paper (along with a cheery grin), and to Yaz’s utter surprise they were immediately ushered through with a few muttered ‘ma’ams’ and two shiny VIP passes. Yaz stared at hers in disbelief, then slowly shook her head.

“You are absolutely impossible,” she said, and when she looked up, the Doctor’s grin only widened.

“Yes, but in the best way!” And then she was dragging Yaz through the turnstiles and into the park at a quick walk that hastened into a run.

“I thought you weren’t excited,” Yaz said crossly once the Doctor stopped, just on the edge of the shadows cast by the entrance. But the Doctor wasn’t looking at her. Instead she was rocking on her toes and squinting out at the bright, sunlit street.

“Oh, I can buy into the charm as much as anyone else,” she tossed carelessly over her shoulder, and then pointed with her free hand, as her other gave Yaz’s palm a prompting squeeze. “But c’mon—weren’t you excited?”

“Course, I—” And then Yaz trailed off, as she finally caught sight of the scene in front of her.

It was exactly how she’d pictured at the age of five. A long, rambling road—Main Street, she recalled—stretched ahead of them, lined with charming, old-timey stores. At the end of it—closer than she’d expected—sat that famous statue of Walt Disney. And beyond that, was—

The castle.

Yaz swallowed a gasp, if only because she wasn’t five anymore.

But she certainly felt it.

For years, she had begged her mum to go to Disney World. The request had always been denied, mostly on account of money, with a little bit of her father’s cheery ‘it’s all a scam, anyway!’ optimism thrown in. She’d given up on begging once she’d turned thirteen, but had never really given up on the idea. After all, she’d grown up on Disney movies, and sure, maybe it was a scam, and they were only amusement parks, and the prices were outrageously expensive, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to take the chance if she got it.

Even if that meant using a time machine.

“Yaz…?”

It was only then that Yaz realized the Doctor was watching her, half a grin hanging on her face. A little nervous, but Yaz didn’t have the chance to ponder what that might mean, because she was too—well, _excited_.

“It’s _amazing_,” she breathed, and then, before her courage could fail her, she spun around and scooped the Doctor into an enormous hug. “Thank you!”

For a moment, the Doctor flailed, completely surprised. Then she cautiously wrapped her arms around Yaz, and that was Yaz remembered that the Doctor didn’t much like touching. Abruptly, she let go and stepped back, embarrassment coloring her expression.

“Sorry,” she said, and the Doctor just shook her head, an uncertain smile upon her face. She was red as well, though Yaz couldn’t decipher why.

“No, it’s fine,” she answered, and then cleared her throat and flung a hand out towards the park. “Well, we best get a shift on, yeah?”

Yaz followed her gesture to look out once more over the park, and again a smile spread across her face. She bit her lip, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “Reckon we should.”

————

It took them ages to make it around the park, mainly because Yaz stopped at every attraction. The Doctor, ever-impatient, filled her ear with stories of how the park looked after the 2027 expansion, and how they really should have gone in 2029 to get the full experience, until Yaz told her firmly but politely to shut up. The Doctor sheepishly complied, switching instead to a long-winded tale which involved herself, Walt Disney, and a case of animatronics come to life.

“Hang on—they’re fine now, aren’t they?” Yaz said, freezing with one foot poised to step into the boat for It’s a Small World.

“Oh, certainly!” The Doctor bobbed her head. Yaz let out an audible sigh and unfroze, clambering into the seat. The Doctor followed her, still chattering as the boats began to float down the artificial river.

“That was just a nasty, interesting relative of the Nestene, fascinating species, really—”

“Hey, lady, my kids want to hear the song!” a disgruntled voice from behind them called. The Doctor swiveled in her seat, and gave him a confused look.

“She wasn’t talking,” she said, and jerked her thumb in Yaz’s direction. Next to her, Yaz sighed.

“You, Doctor,” she hissed. “He’s talking about you.”

The Doctor turned to face her, puzzled, until revelation hit. “Me—oh!”

She swiveled back around. “Sorry! Gender is so confusing.”

The man stared, mouth agape. Then he shut it, and shook his head. Beside him, a little boy tugged his sleeve.

“Dad, what’s a gender?”

Yaz cradled her forehead in her hands. Behind her, she heard a splutter, and then a halting explanation.

“Well, it’s—uh—so when you’re older—”

“Could have saved him the conversation,” Yaz whispered to the Doctor, who just looked at her in confusion.

“What? That’s a bonding family moment!” she whispered loudly. Far too loud. “Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen in Disney World?”

Yaz stared at her, then shook her head. “Doctor, you are—”

“Impossible.” The Doctor grinned, and waggled her eyebrows. “So I’ve been told. Three times today, actually.”

Yaz gaped. “You haven’t—”

“Been keeping count?” The Doctor’s grin widened. “Well, since you wouldn’t let me count the bricks—”

Yaz reddened. “You were in the way of a family!” she whispered furiously. “The little girl started counting them too, and besides, you didn’t _need_—”

“Oi, I was just checking!” the Doctor protested. “Good old Walt swore he placed a defense mechanism somewhere around Main Street, and he told me the pattern, so I was just checking to make sure—”

“You _said_ the Nesting-whatever was gone,” Yaz shot back. By now they had left the white patterned castle decorations behind, and were entering a tunnel. In the distance, instantly recognizable music began to swell.

“Oh, it is!” the Doctor assured. “But it’s always good to be safe, and—oh, those are cool!”

She broke off and nodded over Yaz’s shoulder, who turned. They were gliding slowly out of the tunnel, and into a room filled with dancing animatronic dolls. The music had grown loud now, enough to drown out the already half-forgotten argument.

“Cool,” Yaz said, impressed despite herself. “And…a little creepy.”

“Creepy?” the Doctor said. “Nah, these are just toys! Simple machine and fabric, nothing more than—oh.”

Her tone dropped off suddenly, and Yaz turned.

“Oh? Oh what?”

The Doctor didn’t answer. She had gone suspiciously quiet, and a shade paler than Yaz was comfortable with. Silently, she pointed her chin towards the dolls.

“There,” she said. “See the nutcrackers?”

Yaz followed her gaze. They were nearly upon them now, three descending rows of stiffly moving nutcrackers, waving their arms in a vague imitation of drumbeats.

“Yeah…why?”

“Watch them,” the Doctor said quietly. “And tell me what you notice.”

They were almost past them now, but Yaz did as the Doctor said, twisting in her seat to catch a glimpse. For a moment, she didn’t see anything. And then—

“The top middle one,” she whispered, and when she glanced at the Doctor, saw an affirming nod. “He’s moving opposite the others. Up-down instead of down-up.”

“Right on,” the Doctor whispered back. Yaz watched the nutcracker a moment longer, a strange chill settling over her spine, then turned to face the Doctor.

“So?” she asked, even though somewhere in her mind she already knew the answer. Her heart was slowly sinking to her stomach. “Maybe he’s wired wrong.”

The Doctor shook her head. “They all run together. If he’d been wired wrong, so would the rest of them. No, it’s an error. And not with the ride.”

The chill crawled again up Yaz’s spine. “With what?”

The Doctor looked at her square in the eye then, her gaze deadly serious. “With whatever is taking it over.”

Yaz’s heart plunged. And distantly, at the back of her mind, she thought _so much for a date_.

“Oh,” she said. “So. What do you reckon it might be?”

The Doctor gave the barest of shrugs. Her eyes flicked over Yaz’s head, towards the dolls she knew were dancing behind her. “I have a guess, but—I’ll tell you later. After the ride.”

Yaz frowned. “Why? I mean I doubt the people behind us—”

The Doctor gave the most minuscule shake of her head. When she spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“Not them I’m worried about,” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes once again darted to the dolls. “But I have the feeling we’re being watched.”

“Oh.” Yaz nodded. Slowly, she turned back to the dolls. Was it her imagination, or did their eyes seem to be boring into her? She couldn’t be certain. “What do we do now, then?”

“Count,” the Doctor’s voice came from beside her.

“What?”

“Count the mistakes,” she said in a low voice. “Like the nutcracker. Everything wrong you see, count it. We’ll compare at the end.”

Yaz’s eyes stayed fixed upon the dolls. “And what will that tell us, then?”

The Doctor’s voice came too calm beside her.

“How bad it’s gotten.”

————

“Of course, of _course_,” the Doctor muttered as they stumbled out of the ride together, blinking against the now-late afternoon sun. “Disney World is one of the biggest amusement parks in the _world_. The perfect place for an invasion, of—”

Yaz paled. “What do you mean, invasion? Are you talking about the Nest—what did you call it?”

“No, not the Nestene,” the Doctor answered distractedly. “One of its cousins, the Autene. The Nestene have the ability to animate and control plastic, while these—”

She trailed off, rubbing her chin in deep thought as she stared at a half-melted ice cream that had been tossed on the paved ground in front of them. Yaz watched her for several long moments, until it became clear that she wasn't going to get an answer.

“Doctor,” she prompted, and when the Doctor didn't answer, tugged impatiently on her coat. “_Doctor_.”

“Hmm?” The Doctor’s head jerked up, then her eyes found Yaz’s. “Sorry, what?”

“The Autene,” Yaz said. “What are they?”

“I told you, a cousin of the Nestene—”

“_No_.” Yaz held up a hand to stop her oncoming ramble. “I mean, _what do they do?_”

The Doctor stared at her as if it should be obvious. “They control materials. Mainly metal, but anything, really. Far more advanced than the Nestene, which is terrifying in its own right, but—”

“Hang on,” Yaz interrupted before she could get carried away again. “What do you mean, control material? What do they do with it?”

The Doctor gazed at her with an expression that was far too calm. As if she were afraid, but trying to hide it.

“They animate it,” she said. “Anything vaguely movable, they can bring it to life. And by vaguely movable, I mean, of course—”

“Person-shaped,” Yaz whispered. A sense of horror was beginning to take shape in her mind. She thought back to the animatronics on the ride. “You mean like all the dolls back there? And—”

“Everything else,” the Doctor said grimly. “Every ride, every robot. At least, I'm assuming that's the goal. I'm sorry, Yaz, I know this was meant to be a fun day, but—”

“Oh, none of that,” Yaz said quickly, as if to drown out the voice in her mind that piped up _date, it was meant to be a date_— “There’s lives at stake, aren’t there? So, what do we do?”

For a beat, the Doctor just stared. Then, slowly, a grin worked its way across her face.

“Oh, Yasmin Khan,” she said. “That is one hundred and ten percent, precisely, the attitude I like to see.”

“Yeah, well,” Yaz said quickly, before the blush could spread too far across her cheeks. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

“The best,” the Doctor said. She was still grinning, bouncing on her toes. “So. Shall we find some killer robots?”

Yaz’s stomach quailed for a moment at the words ‘killer robots’. Only a moment. Then she forced the grin back upon her face.

“Sure, Doctor. Let’s find some killer robots.”

————

“Right, so—” The Doctor filled her in as they strode hurriedly across the park, forcing their way between annoyed families and miffed couples. “The Autene aren’t really _in_ the robots, they just control them. The consciousness controlling them is probably somewhere in the park, only I’m not sure where. It’s got to be somewhere it can get a signal, but also somewhere it can hide. The last Nestene I encountered was under the London Eye, but it was using it to project telepathically. I’ve no idea what—”

“What about the castle?” Yaz huffed. She was practically running to keep up with the Doctor, but at her words, the Doctor stopped, and turned to look at her.

“What?”

“The castle,” Yaz said again. She came to a halt as well, and flung a hand towards the castle which, even though they were far from it, towered over them. “It’s the tallest thing, isn’t it? I bet if you had, I dunno, some kind of advanced tech—”

The Doctor looked past her, eying the castle doubtfully. In the late afternoon, sun glinted golden off the tallest tower. “It’s not as big as the signal I last saw.”

“Does it have to be?” Yaz asked. “I mean, if it’s only the park—”

“And it’s all in close range!” The Doctor’s expression lit up with revelation, then immediately turned to horror. “Oh, but that means—”

Abruptly, she lunged forward and grabbed Yaz by the shoulders. “Quick, Yaz, how many mistakes did you count on the ride?”

“Uh…” One part of Yaz’s brain, larger than she would care to admit, was focused on the Doctor’s warm touch, and the proximity of her face, as she peered anxiously into her eyes. “Five, I think. No—six.”

“Six,” the Doctor muttered. She didn’t let go, but she was gazing over her shoulder, frowning in thought. “That’s what I counted too, and it’s more than I’d like. How even was the spread?”

“Huh?” It took Yaz a moment to realize what she was talking about. “Oh. All throughout the ride, I reckon. Yeah—the whole thing, more or less.”

“Right.” Without warning, the Doctor took her hands away and turned, rubbing her chin. She was staring again at the pavement, and Yaz watched her eyes track over a discarded candy wrapper. It occurred to her that there was less trash than she might have thought, in a theme park. “See, it’s the spread I’m worried about. Because what we’re seeing are only the errors, the missed signals, so to speak. My guess is that the Autene is already controlling that entire ride, and the mistakes we saw are its inability to keep a hold of the entire thing. But it could_ surely_ control an entire ride, unless—”

Yaz realized what the Doctor was driving at in the same moment.

“Unless it was controlling more than the ride,” she whispered, and at her words the Doctor spun around.

“Yes, Yasmin Khan, brilliant!” she cried, though she looked far more worried than impressed. “The Autene would never have let so many errors show in one ride, unless it was controlling way more than that. My guess is that it has the entire park, or more, and that we’ve arrived just in time.”

“Just in time?” Yaz’s head was spinning. “Why?”

“Because it’s probably very close to enacting its plan,” the Doctor said. “Of which I’m not entirely sure the details, but me and old Walt have dealt with this before. Last time, we caught it before it put its roots down here. My guess is that it’s now trying to spread to the other parks, but to do that it would need to boost the signal. But how could it boost the signal?”

She was half talking to herself, Yaz could tell, but she appreciated her verbosity anyway. It was helping the wheels in her head slowly grind as well, and though she might not have had the same intellect as the Doctor, she had learned a few things from their travels. Namely, how to think out of the box.

Or, she thought as she watched an employee bend down to clean up the discarded candy bar, how to think under the surface.

“Doctor,” she said slowly, eyes still on the pavement, “You said last time you found the Nestene under the London Eye?”

“Huh?” The Doctor’s head jerked up. “Yeah, why?”

“As in, underground?”

The Doctor nodded, confusion still dancing in her eyes. “Yeah, it was underground. Why do you ask?”

“Doctor—” The candy wrapper was long gone, but Yaz’s eyes were following the employee as she moved along the crowded street. “Did you know that Disney World has the world’s largest underground service tunnels?”

When she tore her eyes away from the employee, the Doctor was gaping at her.

“Oh,” she murmured, and then again. “Oh, _oh_. That’s—one hundred points, definitely, I mean—”

She trailed off, still staring, and Yaz, staring back, felt a small flush of pride. And then, a slight prickle of urgency.

“So,” she said. “What do you think?”

“Uh,” the Doctor said. Her mouth was still hanging open slightly. “I think we should check out those service tunnels.”

————

They found an entrance by following a costumed Mickey through the crowds and into a secluded part of the park, and since the man in the costume couldn’t talk, it only took a flash of the psychic paper for the Doctor to wave herself and Yaz inside.

Underground, the first impression that struck Yaz was a vague sense of unease. It was far too quiet, a contrast to the bustling park above, and though employees and costumed characters shuffled to and fro, there was a strangely subdued air about the place. Not to mention the beige walls and harsh fluorescent lamps cast a distinctly unmagical light over everything.

Yaz wrinkled her nose as they descended the stairs. “Okay, this is definitely ruining the vibe for me.”

Before the Doctor had the chance to respond, a nearby voice sounded. “Oh, everybody says that.”

Both Yaz and the Doctor turned to the source of the noise. He turned out to be a middle-aged man with a genial face, dressed in the typical garb of the employees.

“Do they?” the Doctor said. The man nodded.

“Ruins the magic a bit, right? But you get used to it. Eventually you just get to complaining when they close down the sections you’re trying to get through.” He grimaced, then eyed them. “You two new here?”

“You could say that,” the Doctor answered. “Didn’t know they were closing down the sections, though. Not all of them, I’m sure.”

“Nah.” The man made a face. “There’d be riots. We need these tunnels to get around. It’s mainly the central section they closed down, and they keep saying they’ll reopen it, but—” He broke off and shrugged. “What can you do?”

Yaz nodded in what she hoped was a sage manner. “Right. What’s in the central section? We’re, uh, still learning our way around.”

“Yeah, I get you.” The man jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Down that way. Cinderella’s castle, or at least, the area under it, is completely closed off. Kind of obnoxious, but it’s not the worst, considering they—hey, where are you two going?”

“Time for our shift!” the Doctor called behind her. At the words _Cinderella’s castle_, she had grabbed Yaz by the hand and jerked her past the man, down the direction he had pointed. “Don’t want to be late!”

If the man responded, they didn’t get to hear it, for in moments they were around a corner and out of sight. The Doctor let go of Yaz’s hand, giving her full mobility to run properly, and together they pounded down the hallway, trepidation growing with each step.

“Do you think it might be—?” Yaz gasped as they rounded a corner.

“Don’t know,” the Doctor forced out in reply, and didn’t say more. Instead they just ran, sprinting down hallways and skidding around corners, until, without warning, they rounded a hallway and nearly collided with a mess of yellow cautionary tape.

The Doctor stumbled to a halt, and Yaz slammed into her.

“Thanks for the warning,” she grumbled. The Doctor absently reached out to steady her.

“Suppose that’s the central section,” she said. Yaz looked down the hallway, eerily dark, and suppressed a shudder.

“Wouldn’t like to go down there,” she said, though she already had a feeling she knew what was going to happen. “I don’t suppose—”

She turned to the Doctor to finish her question, only to find the Doctor brushing past her, reaching out to pull away the cautionary tape. Yaz swallowed a groan.

“Worst date ever,” she mumbled under her breath, too quiet to be heard.

Or so she thought.

The Doctor froze, one hand wrapped around a string of tape. Then she turned, an odd look on her face.

“Sorry, what?”

Yaz’s heart fairly skipped a beat.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, and prayed the Doctor wouldn’t pursue it. “I said, worst day ever. But I was joking. Seriously.”

But the Doctor was still looking at her as if she didn’t quite believe her.

“Really? Because I could have sworn you said—”

And then she stopped. Her face paled. Slowly, she turned her head, and Yaz followed her gaze as it ran up the arm clutching the tape, all the way to—

Oh.

There, with its fingers digging into the fabric of her coat, was a hand clenching her shoulder. A very clearly not-human hand. Yaz stared at it, and felt the distinct thump of her heart pounding in her throat.

“Doctor—” she began.

“Don’t move,” the Doctor whispered fiercely. “Just—very quietly, tell me what it is.”

Yaz almost nodded, but caught herself. Instead, she squinted past the Doctor, straining to make out the shape in the nearly pitch-black tunnel.

“It’s—” she said softly, then gulped. “A pirate, it looks like. From the ride. Not one of the recognizable ones.”

“Course not, they would notice those missing,” the Doctor said. She licked her lips, and her other hand twitched towards her pocket. “If I could just—”

But the moment her hand twitched, the robot leapt to life. With a roar that had Yaz reeling back despite her best instincts, another hand came up through the tape and grabbed the Doctor’s other shoulder, dragging her backwards. The Doctor windmilled, then fell, struggling against the robot’s arms, but even from a few feet away, Yaz could tell there was no use. The robot was immovable.

“Don’t move, I’ll help—!” she began to rush forward, only for the Doctor’s cry to stop her.

“Yaz, don’t!” Yaz stopped short, hesitating. The robot, creaking and clanking, was dragging the Doctor inexorably through the tape. “Don’t, it can’t take both of us, we have to stop it!”

“But—!” Down the dark hallway, there came the distance clanks and creaks of animatronic footsteps. Yaz gazed wildly beyond the Doctor, then looked at her helplessly.

“Go, Yaz!” the Doctor cried. The robot roared, and with one last yank, pulled the Doctor through the tape. “Run!”

“But what about—” Yaz’s heart was stuck in her throat. Blood roared in her ears. And the Doctor was already being dragged further and further away. “Doctor!”

“Three up, two across!” The Doctor’s distant voice came. It didn’t make any sense. “It’s three up, two across to the right, from the corner of the ice cream shop! You have to take it to the castle—”

And then she trailed off, her voice growing too indistinct to make out. Yaz stared in stunned horror, watching her form recede into the darkness. The moment it swallowed her, she turned on her heel and ran.

————

She felt like a coward.

That was all she could think as she sprinted through the tunnels, the Doctor’s words ringing in her ears. She was a coward who had left the Doctor to die, and the only way she could possibly make it up to her was—

To save the entire park.

Only she had no idea how.

She burst aboveground panting, the Doctor’s words seared into her skull. _Three up, two across_. What could that possibly mean? And the ice cream shop—they hadn’t even eaten ice cream that day, though they had lingered by one earlier, when the Doctor had stopped to count the—

“Oh,” Yaz breathed. Of course! The Doctor had said something about the bricks containing some sort of defense mechanism, but what? Though then again, it wouldn’t matter what it was if she couldn’t find it, would it?

“Three up, two across,” she whispered. “To the right. Three up, two across.”

Blindly, she turned in a circle, noting that she was already in front of the castle. That was good; it meant she was near Main Street, which was where the ice cream shop had been.

“Three up, two across,” she repeated. The sun was nearly on the horizon by now. Yaz squinted into the distance, and made out the familiar old-timey Main Street buildings. The ice cream shop was on the corner, she remembered.

“Easy as pie,” she muttered, and set off towards the buildings, trying to ignore the erratic thump of her heart. “Easy as pie.”

————

The robot was none too gentle with the Doctor. He dragged her roughly down what seemed like an endless tunnel, only to dump her beside what appeared to be empty cardboard boxes, and tied her up with the stiff, jerky movements of animated machinery.

“Could be a little nicer,” she muttered, as he forced her hands behind her back.

“Yer going to Davy Jones’ locker,” the pirate growled. The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Right,” she said. “Animatronics. Nice to see the Autene didn’t bother to put in unnecessary speech supplements. Don’t suppose you could tell me your plan?”

“Aye, that Jack Sparrow,” the pirate muttered. “He’s a tricky one if I ever saw.”

The Doctor stifled a groan. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

She didn’t expect a reply. However, at her words, the robot stiffened, then abruptly straightened. With a grinding of gears, his head turned, and he drilled her with an eerie stare. In the near-complete darkness, his eyes seemed to glow.

Despite herself, the Doctor shrunk back.

“I will not kill you,” the robot croaked. The voice still held the pirate-y affectations, but the Doctor immediately knew she was facing no animatronic. She straightened up.

“You must be the Autene,” she said. “I’d say nice to meet you, only it’s not. You have to get off this planet.”

The robot cocked his head. “I will not,” he said. “I have taken up refuge here. It is my right.”

“On a level five planet?” the Doctor spit. “I don’t think so. There are millions of uninhabited worlds. Why don’t you go to one of them?”

Abruptly, the robot laughed, an ugly _har-har-har_. “I do not think so. With what army? My people need to be rebuilt. To do that, we need workers.”

“You mean robots,” the Doctor growled. “An army of animatronics, ready to—what? Kill off the humans? Take over the planet?”

The robot simply gazed at her with blank eyes. “We are not the Nestene. We do not kill without cause. I will only kill when necessary.”

“Oh, like when they fight back?” the Doctor asked. “What do you call that? Because I call that war.”

The robot gave an affectation of a shrug. “I call that a fair fight.”

“Yeah, well—” the Doctor began, but the robot was already turning away. “Hey, wait a minute! I’m not done talking to you! This is a level five planet—”

“Yer going to Davy Jones’ locker,” the robot growled, as it bent to lift up a box on the other side of the hallway. The box balanced in both arms, it turned and started away. “Aye, that Jack Sparrow, he’s a tricky one if I ever saw.”

The Doctor stared. “Right,” she muttered. “Bloody brilliant. No hands and no clues.”

She wiggled against the ties, but it was useless. Even her feet had been tied, and _those_ ties had been firmly attached to a stake jammed roughly in the ground. Not to mention she had a feeling that the moment she moved, one of those robots would come running.

She had no hope. Nothing. Except for Yaz.

“C’mon, Yaz,” she whispered to herself. She thought about her clue, and prayed Yaz would know what it meant. She had a feeling she would. Yaz was quick on her feet. Quicker even than the Doctor expected, half the time.

“C’mon, Yaz,” she said again, and closed her eyes. In the distance, she could hear the creaking and clanking of robots at work. She hoped Yaz would figure it out, and quick. Because she wasn’t sure they had much time.

And besides, the Doctor really wanted to ask about that date.

————

The sun was well and truly set, and Yaz was still counting.

She hadn’t gotten it right the first three times. At least, she didn’t think so, though she couldn’t imagine what she had gotten wrong. Every count led her to the same brick, only when she looked at it, it appeared exactly the same as all the rest, and when she stepped on it, nothing happened. When she pressed against it, nothing happened either, and she’d by now tried all sorts of rather awkward stunts—including doing a quick series of jumps upon it—for nothing. The brick remained obstinately…brickish. If it was even the right one.

“This is getting me nowhere,” Yaz muttered, and tried to force down the panic in her throat. It had been brewing ever since she’d left the tunnels. Besides, even if she did find whatever the Doctor wanted her to find, she only had a vague idea of what to do with it. Go to the castle. But what if she didn’t know how to work it? Yaz closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay—

“But mommy, I want to keep it!”

“Elise, you _cannot_ keep a toy you found on the ground! It might belong to somebody else, wouldn’t you want them to have their toy back?”

Yaz’s eyes flew open. She spun around to find the source of the argument, just as the little girl piped up again.

“But it wasn’t _on_ the ground, mommy! It was inside it!” the little girl protested as her mother dragged her along, right towards where Yaz was standing. Yaz, for her part, simply stared.

Because it was the same girl from before. The girl who had started counting when the Doctor had, who had been following her pattern, or must have—

Yaz leapt to life. “Hi! Sorry, excuse me, but did you say you found something here?”

The mother stopped, and eyed Yaz warily. “Um, hi. Yes, my daughter did. Why do you ask?”

Yaz glanced down at the little girl—Elise—who stared up at her with fearful eyes. In the hand not clutching her mother’s, her chubby fingers were wrapped around a strange, silvery pen-shaped object.

“Well, uh—” Had she always been so slow on her feet? Quickly, she pointed. “That’s my pen! I’ve been looking all over for it, I thought for sure I’d lost it.”

For a moment, she was afraid the mother wouldn’t buy it. But to her surprise—and relief—the mother let out a sigh, and shook her head.

“There you go, Elise, see? It’s this nice lady’s pen. Could you please give it back to her?”

But Elise simply shook her head. “I found it, though. That’s finders-keepers!”

Yaz could feel her own impatience rising in her, edged on by desperation. But she swallowed it and instead knelt down to be eye-level with Elise.

“Elise,” she said very seriously, “I hate to take my pen away from you. I can see you’ve taken very good care of it. But do you know why I need it back?”

Elise shook her head, but her eyes were round, curious.

“That’s an alien-fighting pen,” Yaz said in a low voice. “I have a friend who’s in trouble from aliens, and I need to use it to rescue her. But I can’t rescue her without my pen, see?”

For a moment, she was afraid Elise might still refuse. But after a moment, she nodded, wide-eyed, and held the pen out for Yaz to take. Yaz reached out and carefully unclamped sweaty child-fingers, then shoved the pen in her own pocket. She nodded sagely once, waited for Elise to return it, then stood.

“Thank you,” she told the mother, who simply gave a weary nod. “I’ve been looking for it for ages.”

“No problem,” she answered, and gave Elise a look. “See, aren’t you glad you returned it?”

Elise simply shrugged. “Can I get a balloon though, mommy?”

Her mother sighed, then shot Yaz a grin and shook her head. “Moved on just like that. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Yaz returned her grin, and resisted the urge to turn and sprint. She had work to do. The Doctor was waiting on her. “Kids are something.”

“That they are,” the mother agreed, then tugged Elise’s hand. “C’mon, Elise, say bye to the nice lady.”

“Bye!” Elise called, waving her hand wildly. Yaz waved back, and watched them disappear into the crowd. The moment they did, she turned on her heel and ran.

—————

The Doctor was getting impatient. She had been there at least an hour, if not more—her internal clock was way off—and she was starting to lose feeling in her wrists and ankles. Which wouldn’t be a problem, if she knew she would be getting out of them soon. Only she didn’t.

Because she had no idea where Yaz was.

Well technically, she hadn’t told Yaz to come find her. She had told her to find the defense mechanism that Disney had planted, only she wasn’t sure if Yaz had actually heard all of the instructions. She really hoped she had.

Because if she hadn’t, well…

They might not be getting that date after all.

“C’mon, Yaz,” the Doctor muttered, even though nobody was around to hear it. “I believe in you.”

And she did, of course. She was just getting a little tense, was all. Not to mention there was something off about those boxes beside her, though the Doctor couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She had scooted over and checked them all the moment the robot had left, only to confirm that they were, in fact, empty. But there was something about them she didn’t like, even though they were simple cardboard, unmarked and slightly damp from the underground chill. Perhaps it was because of the smell that hung in the air, the one which reminded her slightly of gunpowder, though she had no idea what role gunpowder might play in any plan besides explosives.

Explosives. Hang on. The Doctor frowned, and straightened up to look at the boxes. They were right by her, close enough to touch, not that she could. She could only lean over, and possibly sniff them.

Or lick them.

The Doctor’s eyes widened as the idea occurred to her. Quickly, she leaned over, slightly thankful that Yaz wasn’t around to judge her, and gave the closest box a lick. She pulled back immediately, wrinkling her nose at the taste, and rolled it around in her mouth, trying to identify.

Yes, that was gunpowder, or a similar component. Explosive. But what kind? Not a large enough amount to be lethal, really, They actually reminded the Doctor of—

“Fireworks,” she whispered, and that was when it hit her. Because the only other taste, slightly tangy and rather metallic, was something she had only identified twice before.

Nano-boosters. Tiny signal boosters that could be dispersed in the air, and, providing there were enough of them, cover an enormous range. Something like an entire American state.

And all they needed was a way to get into the air.

“The fireworks show!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Oh, I’m daft, I really am—!”

In only a few hours—or less? The whole sky would be alight in fireworks, fireworks which the Autene Consciousness was currently busy replacing with its own, signal-boosted variety. In only a few hours, the Autene Consciousness would be able to activate anything in the entire state of Florida.

And Yaz didn’t know.

Oh, the Doctor wanted to smack herself. Because even if Yaz activated the defense mechanism, the Autene Consciousness would still be able to spread its signal, unless the Doctor stopped it.

“Looks like I’m not going to be sitting around like I thought,” she muttered, and cast her eyes around the hallway, looking for something, anything to help her. “Question is, what am I going to do?”

—————

The crowds were already starting to gather for the evening fireworks as Yaz pushed her way through the masses of people to reach the castle. It was tough going, and she received more than her fair share of nasty looks, to which she could only reply with a muttered, “sorry”.

By the time she reached the castle, night had well and truly fallen, and Yaz had no idea what to do. She gripped the pen—though it wasn’t a pen, it only looked like one—in her hand, and stared up at the castle, wishing for only the briefest of moments that things had gone to plan. That her and the Doctor would be standing there, staring up at the sky, and waiting for the fireworks. And maybe she would finally have the courage to say something, and then—

Yaz took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. The Doctor wasn’t here, she reminded herself. But she was depending on Yaz.

Yaz opened her eyes, and strode forward.

The small tunnel, which linked the front and the back of the castle, had emptied out as people migrated towards the open areas, eager to see the display of lights. Yaz found herself one of the few standing there, and she took the opportunity to look around, to gaze at the murals on the wall. They were spectacularly adorned, and each told a story, one which it took her a moment to puzzle out. But of course—it was Cinderella’s story, starting from her life as a maid for her stepsisters, and ending as she danced with the prince, reunited at last. Yaz stared, and wondered again what on earth she was supposed to do here. She as still clenching the silvery pen thing, and when she glanced down, she noticed the skin around her knuckles had grown white.

She was running out of time. There was no timer upon her, and yet still she could feel the seconds ticking by—for what, she didn’t know. She glanced out the front of the archway, at the empty night sky, and wondered when the fireworks would start.

She had a feeling she couldn’t wait around to see.

“Oh, Doctor,” she murmured, her heart pounding in her chest, “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

—————

The Doctor’s throat had long gone hoarse from yelling by the time the robot pirates came back.

“Oh, finally!” she said crossly. “I’ve been _saying_ for ages I wanted to see your leader. A pirate robot, charming accent aside, just isn’t a good substitute, sorry to say.”

“Yer going to Davy Jones’ locker,” the pirate she recognized growled, while the other unsheathed a scarily-real looking dagger and drove it through the rope attaching her feet to the stake.

“I _really_ don’t want to know where you got that,” she muttered, as the pirate sheathed the dagger, then grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her bodily to her feet. “Don’t suppose that’s a prop.”

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!” the second pirate sung gleefully. The Doctor took one look into its blank eyes, and shuddered.

“You can_not_ carry a tune, my friend.”

The two pirates had no answer to this, but simply dragged her, stumbling and hopping, between them for a few steps, until the Doctor abruptly lost balance and pitched forward.

“Ow!” she complained, and rolled onto her back. “Can’t walk like this, can I?”

She gestured with both wrists to her tied-together ankles, and the pirates stared balefully at her. The Doctor could almost see the literal gears grinding in their heads. Then, at last, the second pirate withdrew his dagger, and before the Doctor had time to react, drove it towards her ankles.

“Hang on—!” she yelped, but the pirate had better aim than she thought, for the dagger sliced precisely through the ropes between her ankles, drawing nary a drop of blood. She stared, then sagged.

“Phew,” she sighed. “For a moment I was sure—oh alright, alright!”

She grumbled as the pirates dragged her to her feet again, and made a show of using her own feet to launch herself upright, even though they immediately gripped her shoulders and steered her down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” she asked, even though she had a feeling she knew. It was what she had been calling for, anyway.

“Yer off to walk the plank,” the leftmost pirate growled, and the Doctor rolled her eyes.

“Nice,” she answered. “How about a little ‘take me to your leader?’ Little more on brand, isn’t it?”

Neither of the pirates responded, and so the Doctor just had to lapse into silence, unpleasantly aware of the lack of breathing from either of her captors. In the darkness of the hallway, silent except for their clanking footsteps, it was incredibly eerie.

It took them several minutes to arrive—or at least, the Doctor assumed they had arrived, when they approached a corner, from which a pale orange glow emanated. They rounded it, and she stifled a gasp.

For there, filling up the entire width of the hallway, sat the slimy, tentacled mass that made up the Autene Consciousness. It was far too big for the hallway, the Doctor could tell, for it could barely move; it had tentacles jammed against the ceiling and floor, and they writhed wearily, as if they had long since grown used to the claustrophobia. The Doctor stared at it, and despite herself, felt a pang of pity.

“Now, that isn’t fair, is it?” she asked. “You, stuck here, all alone. What are you doing in a service tunnel? Last cousin of yours I saw was under the London Eye. Loads more room, you ask me.”

“And less potential,” the Autene Consciousness rasped. “You have been calling for me, Doctor. I can only assume you want to negotiate.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Yeah, well, talking’s always nice, isn’t it? Thought we could work something out.”

“Hah!” the Autene Consciousness exclaimed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you pathetic biped. You have nothing you could offer me. I am a member of one of the most powerful telepathic species in the universe. And I have a duty—”

“Pssh, duty,” the Doctor scoffed. She took a cautious step forward, away from the pirates, and when they didn’t respond, took another one. “I’ve heard loads about duty my whole life. Let me guess, you’re a scout, yeah? Come to clear the way for the invasion, or something like that?”

“You would know, _Doctor_,” the Autene Consciousness hissed. “You would respect me, a fellow soldier. That is why I brought you here, to face me properly. You should be honored.”

The Doctor neglected to point out that she had been shouting for the past hour to see the Autene Consciousness herself. Instead she said, “Yeah, well I’m a bit tired of soldiering, to be honest. Had enough of it. And I can’t let you take over a level five planet. Sorry, bub.”

The Autene Consciousness’s tentacles waved furiously. “And what will you do to stop me?” it hissed. “You are helpless, Doctor. You don’t even know my plan. And you’re far too late. You cannot stop my plan. You can only bear witness.”

Was the Doctor imagining, or was there a slight smug note on the last sentence? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. She took a step forward and sniffed reproachfully. “Well, don’t know about that. Suppose you’re trying to boost the signal, aren’t you? Can’t imagine how you’ll do that.”

Which was a total and utter lie, but the Autene Consciousness didn’t need to know that. The Doctor took another step forward, and prayed it wouldn’t notice. If it did, she might have to make a run for it, and she didn’t like her odds.

“Yes, you wouldn’t be able to imagine, with your tiny bipedal brain,” the Autene Consciousness rasped. The Doctor balked.

“Oi, I’ve got quite a few braincells, thanks very much,” she exclaimed. Then she remembered that that was beside the point, really.

“Er, but not enough to figure out your plan,” she added hastily, and took another step forward, tensing for the telltale grind of gears behind her. There was nothing. “Which is why you should at least tell me, so I can be witness to your genius. And to my own downfall.”

A loud, ugly sound emanated from the Autene Consciousness. It took the Doctor a moment to realize that it was a laugh. She used the opportunity to take another step forward, placing herself only a few feet away.

“Oh, but you will be witness to my genius,” the Autene Consciousness gloated. “As I’ve said, there’s a reason I brought you here, Doctor. I’ve waited so many months for this victory. It’s fitting I should share it.”

“Er, I’m not exactly sharing it, mate.” The Doctor took another step forward. “I mean, I’m here against my will and all, and—by the way, when did you say this victory was happening?”

“Any minute,” the Autene Consciousness rasped. “Any minute, and my victory will be complete. And _you_ shall see it.”

“Great!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Or actually, I think I’ll—”

And then she sort-of-on-purpose tripped and fell, right into the Autene Consciousness.

—————

Yaz could hear the low, excited grumble of the crowd outside, and it only heightened her tension. Because she had been searching for a good twenty minutes now, and found nothing, and was once more reduced to counting bricks. She was pretty sure the bricks had nothing to do with what she was searching for, however, if only because they were a different size, and had yet to reveal anything. But she was desperate.

“Okay, but it has to be here.” She straightened up and spun in a slow circle, the silvery pen gripped in her hand. “The Doctor said the castle, right? So it has to be—”

And then a thought occurred to her, and her heart sunk. Because what if the Doctor meant inside the castle? If she had to search the whole thing, she would never have time to find whatever it was she needed to find before the Doctor—

“No,” Yaz whispered viciously, and spun around to stare blankly at a mural. It showed Cinderella and her fairy godmother, wand held aloft. “That can’t be, it has to be here, I just need to—”

Need to what? She had no idea. She stared at the wall, and absently took in the mural. Perhaps it was something in the pictures she thought. Actually, staring at the mural across from her, she could almost see—

Yaz frowned, and stepped closer. She squinted, then her eyes widened, and she glanced down at the pen in her hand.

It did look like a pen, Yaz thought. But then, it also looked sort of like—

A wand.

In fact, the thing she was holding was an exact replica of the wand the fairy godmother was holding.

Yaz stared. Behind her, she heard gasps as the first fireworks burst in the air. She ignored them. Instead, with shaking fingers, she held the wand in her hand up, and, on tiptoes, touched it to the wand of the fairy godmother.

Immediately, the wand in her hand lit up.

—————

Screaming.

Angry, rasping screaming filled the Doctor’s mind, but she forced her way past it calmly, because she had a job to do.

Because the Autene Consciousness may have come from a race of very powerful telepaths, but the Doctor came from a race of the most powerful telepaths.

And with careful, firm hands, she began to build.

“Ha!” She stumbled backwards, her mind reeling, hands still tied, and collapsed upon the ground. Immediately, the pirates were upon her, dragging her away from the Autene Consciousness, forcing her to her feet.

“Yer going to Davy Jones’ locker!” the rightmost pirate growled, and the Doctor just sighed.

“I _am_ in Davy Jone’s locker,” she said, but they only jerked her again roughly. “And I don’t think you’ve got much left in you, do you, Autene?”

She raised her voice slightly to call out to the Autene Consciousness, who was writhing in an utmost fury. “Having a little trouble there?”

“There is no trouble!” the Autene Consciousness screamed, though there was an edge of uncertainty to its tone. “Any moment—yes!”

Distantly, the Doctor heard the boom of fireworks above. The Autene Consciousness gave an ugly crow of success.

“Yes!” it rasped. “Yes, yes! You’re too late, Doctor! The fireworks have started, and my signals are being scattered through the air as we speak!”

“Oh, really?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “How’s that telepathic connection going then?”

For a moment, there came no response but a confused wiggle of tentacles. Then, the Autene Consciousness let out a cry of frustration.

“But—” it rasped. “But how—?”

“I blocked you,” the Doctor said, with just a ghost of a smirk. “Got into your head, added a nice little scramble. Signal booster’s up, but you can’t access it.”

The Autene Consciousness screamed in fury, and thrashed about. “You have not stopped me, Doctor! You are but a puny, pathetic biped, and I am already working to undo your block! In a few minutes—”

“You won’t be here,” the Doctor replied. The Autene Consciousness stopped. Even its tentacles went still.

“What?” it rasped. For the first time, the Doctor caught a hint of fear. She smiled.

“Oh, well, it’s just I met one of your species, a long time ago,” she said, cocking her head as if to recall. “When was it? Oh, I dunno. With my good friend, Walt. Well, acquaintance. Either way, I gave him a teleportation beam which he hid somewhere in the park. Well, I say somewhere. I actually know where it is. And lucky for me, my friend knows how to activate it.”

At least, she hoped Yaz knew how to activate it. She decided not to mention that part. “Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention.”

The Autene Consciousness wiggled its tentacles nervously. All of its fury appeared to have fled. “What?”

The Doctor’s grin widened. “Why, it’s tuned to Autene DNA.”

And it was incredibly lucky timing, because that was the exact moment she felt the telltale prickle of a teleportation beam on the back of her neck. The Autene Consciousness must have felt it too, for it began to writhe again, in growing desperation.

“No!” it screamed. “You can’t! My superiors—they’ll—”

But it never finished that sentence, for in another moment it was gone, beamed away in a flash of light. The Doctor stared, and felt the abrupt release of pressure on her shoulders, followed by twin crashes as the two pirate robots hit the ground.

“Well, he certainly loved dramatic speeches, didn’t he?” she muttered, then turned to the entrance, only to stop. “Hang on—”

She turned and knelt beside one of the pirates, searching until she found the dagger, which she quickly used to split the binds on her wrists.

“Thanks,” she said, then tossed the dagger to the side and stood up, taking one last look at the space the Autene Consciousness had occupied. She stared, then shook her head, a small smile crossing her lips.

“Oh, Yasmin Khan,” she said softly. “Let’s see about that date, shall we?”

—————

Yaz stared at the pen—wand—in her trembling hands. It had lit up for several long moments, only now it was as silent and dull as when she’d found it. Not to mention, she had no idea if it worked. What if it hadn’t? What if the Doctor—

No. She wouldn’t think about that. Yaz sucked in a breath, steadying herself, then jammed the pen in her pocket and turned to the front of the archway, where awed crowds watched fireworks burst across the sky.

“Right, Doctor,” she muttered. “Hope you’re not in trouble, because it’s only me coming to save you.”

And with that, she took off, plunging into the crowds amassed across the park.

They were thicker than she’d expected. She pushed her way through, once again ignoring glares of cries and annoyance, with a quietly growing desperation because really, what had changed? She had no idea if the pen had done anything, or if she’d even used it correctly, and what if she only—

“Yaz!”

Yaz froze. Then she spun around.

“Doctor?”

“Yaz!”

Yaz lunged through the crowds, in the direction of the Doctor’s voice. “Doctor!” she called, half desperate, half hoping, shoving people aside, blind to cries of irritation until, with one final push, she tumbled right out into an open space, right in front of Walt Disney’s statue.

And the Doctor was there.

“Yaz!” She looked grimy, but no more worse for wear, striding towards her with a grin splitting her face, eager and relieved and happy all at once, and so wonderful was the sight that when she spread her arms as if to hug, Yaz rushed right in and kissed her.

It wasn’t how she’d been planning, but she knew immediately that she needn’t have cared, because the Doctor responded with such enthusiasm that there could be no mistaking. They tangled together, all lips and hands and hair, and in that moment, though they were surrounded by what had to be a million people, with music playing and fireworks bursting overhead, Yaz felt completely still. Perfect.

“You’re safe,” she mumbled into the Doctor’s mouth, and nearly protested when the Doctor pulled back to look at her, a goofy grin upon her face.

“Course I am,” she said, and then, at Yaz’s look, amended the statement. “Well, I had you watching out for me.”

“It worked?” Yaz asked, hardly daring to hope. The Doctor nodded, and relief rushed through her. “Oh, good.”

“Oh, good?” The Doctor raised her eyebrows. “Yasmin Khan, you saved the entire park. I think you’ve ended the point system.”

“Well, it was a lame system anyway,” Yaz said, and at the Doctor’s crestfallen expression, quickly backtracked. “I mean…maybe you could do something else?”

“Like what?” the Doctor asked.

Yaz smiled. “Like this,” she said, and with both hands grasped the lapels of the Doctor’s coat to pull her into another kiss.

This time, even as more fireworks burst overhead, they didn’t pull apart.

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN not to be sappy on main again but yall should check out hellynz/sara's fics because she writes amazing angst and also I love her and she is severely talented. ok ill shut up now bye. no I won't HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUDE ILY


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